


Lofty Goals

by Torched22



Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21538900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torched22/pseuds/Torched22
Summary: Lex hand-delivers a dagger to Clark Kent's loft and gets more than he bargained for. *Explicit*
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Lofty Goals

**Author's Note:**

> It was lovely meeting Michael Rosenbaum and it is my hope that someday he will stumble across one of my fanfics ;) Hopefully this one :)

Lex signed the letter with a flourish, a sense of smug satisfaction flooding his senses as he licked the envelope. He had people he paid to do this sort of thing, but this card - this envelope - was special. The words, "You are Cordially Invited..." dipped below the lilac envelope as he smiled and wetted his lips. Luthor was never truly certain about marrying Lana Lang, but he knew that doing so was a weapon he couldn't afford not to wield. 

In addition to handling the wedding invitation, he had also decided to hand deliver it. His footfall echoed through the mansion as he made his way to the expansive garage. The lights sensed his motion and flicked to life one bank at a time. Which should he take? The black Porsche? The purple Lamborghini? His head swiveled as he considered his options. At the end of the garage sat a cherry red Nissan GT-R. It wasn't the type of ride Lex typically favored, but it had reminded him of Clark, so he snatched it off the lot without a second thought a year ago. 

The license plate read "Clex1" and the car had never seen the light of day, other than during the drive to his garage. "Ah, fuck it," Lex said aloud, walking towards it. He opened the driver's side door and slid in. He had the fabric seats reupholstered to the same shade of dark brown leather that the Kent's used for saddles. The car's boxy lines were all Kent - and the curving slopes were all Luthor. It had the vague smell of Martha's apple pies, since he had stopped at the Kent's the day he bought it to bring a shipment of her pies home for Thanksgiving. That was before he had the license plate made. 

Everything about it fit like a glove and screamed, "Smallville." Lex swallowed and mentally agreed that he would sell it after tonight. Hand going to the ignition, he started it and backed it out of it's spot in the garage, heading for the doors, the road, the Kent farm. 

It was November 23, just days away from Thanksgiving, and the hollowed fields were packed with snow, but patches of yellow peeked out at him from beneath. Even with the desolate weather, the land still vibrated with life. Despite being pancake flat, there was enough to look at. Most people hated the sensation of seeing so very far and taking so long to reach what they saw, but Lex didn't mind the nothingness. He just threw it in gear and aimed for 100 mph. Not on little trips like this though. 

He made it to the Kent farm just as the sun was setting. The ball of flame was stretching it's yellow-rayed arms outwards in an attempt to delay the frigid night, but to no avail. Lex's tires crunched in the gravel drive and he looked at himself in the rearview mirror briefly. This was the part where - if he had hair - he would make sure it looked good. Staring at his own slate gray eyes, he questioned if this was an evil thing to do. 'Hey Clark, I know we used to be best friends, but now we're sworn enemies and I'm here to hand deliver an invitation to my and your ex-girlfriend's wedding. You know, your ex-girlfriend? Lana? The love of your life? Yeah, her. She and I are getting married. Fuck you.'

Okay, so maybe this was evil. Lex sighed and the sound filled the small space around him. He couldn't help it. He was so hurt, so broken, so angry. His falling out with Clark had been the single most painful experience of his life next to his mother dying. No relationship he'd had, not even with his first two wives who'd betrayed and tried to kill him, generated the thoughts and feeling that this did. He sat there, unmoving, remembering Clark's face as he looked around the room dedicated to himself. He remembered the dark oceanic shade of blue Clark's eyes turned as he stared at the screen replaying the scene of him being hit by Lex's car. The betrayal. The hurt. "You don't want me, you want my secrets," Clark had said, the deadly quiet words slicing like a knife to Lex's neck.

Since then, they'd fought. They'd hit one another. Each one of Clark's lies lodged in Lex's flesh like splinters. And each of one of his own underhanded schemes and less than legal dealings had been a blow to Clark. They were irreparable. So Lex figured... let him watch... let him watch as he took the last thing that he'd ever loved: Lana. Because Clark had taken himself away from Lex, and that was all Lex had ever loved...

Lex felt the urge to sigh again, but he straightened instead, fixing his face into its best 'fuck you,' arrangement, and pushed the door open. He walked out into the darkness, the cherry red of the car now black beneath the starless sky. Slamming the door, he walked towards the barn since the house was dark and there was a glow coming from the loft. 

As he entered, he heard a sound, a faint one, coming from the loft, and he couldn't figure out what it was. The invitation was in his left hand, hot as a poker, and his right hand held onto the wooden railing as he ascended the steps. He was about halfway up when he heard something familiar - his name. 

"Lex..." 

But it barely even sounded like Clark. The word was strangled and dripping with what sounded like pain. His steps slowed.

"God, Lex, please..." 

Lex quickened his pace, he saw the beginning of the loft, the floor-level, then higher- the sofa, then he was standing on the wooden platform. The first thing his brain did was short-circuit. His mouth dried and his fingers relaxed, dropping the forgotten invitation. 

On the familiar, over-worn, red sofa was Clark. Naked. His head at the end farthest from Lex, thrown back, mouth parted. He keened and whined and was touching himself. 

Apparently flight or flight are not the only two options when it comes to facing something shocking. Lex's feet were firmly planted on the wooden planks as if an invisible force was trapping him in place. Freeze. He was frozen. He was watching. Maybe his father was right about him being a sick bastard. His lips parted, as if to announce his presence, but nothing came out. He thought of turning tail and leaving, but that wasn't...wasn't what he...wanted.

"Clark," he said so lowly that his own ears barely picked it up. It was less of a word and more of a breath. 

Kent apparently heard though, his thrown-back head, coming down to rest on the pillow behind it. His eyes were slitted but open and dripping with lust. He made eye contact with Lex and did little more than blush. It was a beautiful rosy shade that tinted the tops of his ears, then slid down his neck and bloomed over his chest. Lex's brain was urging him to take a breath. He expected Clark to stop what he was doing - to fumble and mutter and exclaim apologies - but he did nothing of the sort. Clark's huge hand continued stroking his impressive cock, and the pained look on his face only grew.

"Lex," he pled. 

Luthor felt like stumbling forward, or running backwards, his brain struggled with what to do. 

Clark only writhed on the sofa, his large frame barely fitting on its creaking frame. "Here, come, please," Kent begged. As soon as the words reached Lex, he found his feet again, moving him forwards. It was like Icarus flying into the sun. He knew his wings would catch fire, he realized that touching Kent would light his entire existence on fire, and yet, he felt prepared to watch it all burn. 

He was standing by the sofa, fully clothed in a suit that cost more than the entire Kent Farm, Armani jacket fluttering around his knees, eyes downcast on Clark. If he really wanted revenge - if he really was a bastard - he'd bring Clark just close enough to the edge before laughing and leaving. But that wasn't... he couldn't...

"Touch me Lex," Clark begged. 

The older man felt the world beneath him give way, his resolve crumbling with it. He brought a long, pale hand out and skimmed Clark's chest, from his bellybutton up to his neck. He expected roughness and cold but instead felt impossible softness, brain-melting warmth. He brought that same hand to Clark's neck, tightening his fingers to feel the pulse beneath and Clark only hummed his appreciation. 

Everything within Lex was screaming. 'Find out what the hell's going on,' his brain urged. 'What if this is some sort of trick? What if it's not really Clark? What if Clark isn't himself? This is the land of meteor freaks and odd occurrences. This can't be real. You don't get to have this,' it yelled. He swallowed thickly, settling upon the idea that even if something was off...he...he didn't care. If he could just have Clark...just once...

'But it'll ruin you,' his logic screamed in response. 'If you have him once and never get to have him again - it'll kill you,' the words flashed like neon signs behind his lust addled eyes. 'It'll kill you.'

"So be it," he said aloud to the dare. If it killed him - so be it. If he got to have Clark Kent once and never again and lost his sanity or will to live as a result...then so be it. He was prepared to drag that blade over his wrist if worst came to worst. He'd already killed his father. Who knows how many other's he'd killed. He probably deserved the Shakespearean ending that awaited him. 

He brought his hand to Clark's face, caressing the left side of it before swiping a thumb over Clark's plump lips. Kent looked up at him with impossibly huge green/blue eyes and took that thumb into his mouth. 

"Fuck," Lex said, swaying. 

The farmboy did wonderful things to his thumb, licking it and swirling his tongue around it, dragging it in and out and kissing it. Lex could come just from this - and wasn't that a frightening thought? He was basically a sex addict - and no one did it for him anymore. Nothing was enough anymore. Nothing sent a jolt through him anymore. And yet, here it was, that jolt - rocketing up his thumb past his wrist, up his arm, lighting his nervous system on fire and flashing a bolt of chaotic arousal to his groin. 

Clark let go of the digit with a pop. "Need you Lex," he whined. Lex nodded, took off his jacket and let the floor consume it. He toed off his shoes and socks and undid his belt, sliding it from its loops as he threw a leg over Clark and straddled him. The couch groaned in protest. They'd probably both end up on the floor at this rate. 

There was a sense of urgency here, like if Lex took his time, this might all turn to sand and disappear through the cracks of his fingers. He put a hand in Clark's hair and pulled sharply to expose his neck, he licked a stripe there, along his jugular and felt the pulse jump under his tongue. Clark tasted of salt and felt like heat, his large hands had gone to Lex's waist, and Luthor finally let himself believe that this was real. Clark's leaking cock was behind his ass, and his muscled chest heaved under his free hand. He jerked that stupidly good-looking face towards his and kissed Clark. 

Whatever Lex had daydreamed paled in comparison to this...and he had daydreamed a lot. Clark tasted like coffee and pie and all that was good in the world. Lex tasted like whiskey, salt, and bitter disappointment turned to hope. Hell, Clark even smelled like sunshine, like the beach, like the ozone layer sprung to life after a fresh rain. Lex wanted to dig his heels into the earthiness that was Clark Kent and let it put out the fire that burned inside of him with rage. 

The kiss was expert, a dance of lips, tongue and teeth that left even the overly-experienced Luthor, reeling. He could scarcely breathe, and it appeared that Clark had no need to. In a moment, he was being pushed back. His brain screamed 'rejection,' but it was just Clark moving to rip off his tie and button down. The fabric yelped and tore apart with ease. Then the farmers hands were brushing against his cock as he was divested of his pants and underwear. Finally, he sat straddling Clark, naked, self conscious about his total lack of body hair. Never in his adult life had Lex felt self-conscious about his body. He was a sex god who's reputation far preceded him. And yet, Clark had reduced him to a facsimile of a squirming virgin. 

"Cl-" But he barely got the words out. Clark was whining, his eyes hot like a caress, moulding to and exploring Lex's body. "Beautiful...so beautiful," he said, tortured. Before Lex could let the compliment sink in, he was being maneuvered onto his back. His head would have smacked the arm of the couch, but Clark's strong hand came to the back of his head to protect it, before kissing Lex again, then slinking down his body. 

'Fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck,' Lex's brain supplied. 'What's he-'

Clark wasted no time parting his legs and licking his balls, taking one into his mouth, then another. Apparently Clark's mouth was just as expert as the rest of him. Lex could only dig his hands into Clark's hair and whine. Thank god Clark hadn't touched his cock or he'd be coming. Instead, Kent parted his most private area and licked there. Lex jumped upwards, but those strong hands held his hips in place. 

"Fuck!" he yelped. 

"I need you," Clark said. "I need to be inside of you."

Lex considered this. He never bottomed, it was too intimate for him. His father had taught him about power and control and bottoming was not a part of that. He enjoyed sucking cock too much to abstain from that - but he had never bottomed before. Lex was all hard angles and buttoned up tightness. He was walled up and closed off, and apparently, Clark Kent wanted inside. It wasn't fair really...Clark always got into Lex, but Lex was never granted access to Clark. Then again, if he complained or offered the opposite, he was afraid of driving Clark away. He didn't even know if Clark had ever been with a man at all. Maybe he needed to top to be able to justify this later when he would inevitably, be consumed with gay panic. 

Also uncharacteristic of Lex, he was nervous. Full-blown, butterflies in the stomach, head swimmingly nervous. Clark was going rather fast and his cock was...very...impressive. He was a strong young man and Lex imagined his body being split open by that cock. It sent both fear and arousal coursing through his veins. 

"Don't worry Lex..." Clark said from between Lex's pale, muscular legs, "I won't hurt you, I promise." Shit, could he read minds now too? Lex couldn't give it too much thought because Clark continued rimming Lex's hole, licking and pushing his way inside with his tongue, curling it up and down and doing so many sinful things with it. When his tongue had done all that it could, Clark opened his mouth and took Lex's cock into it, all the way down to the root. Lex made some inhuman noise as he writhed in pleasure. He barely noticed or cared when a finger entered his hole. "Clark," he moaned, both hands dug into the insanely soft chestnut hair. 

Clark sucked him like a pro - better than a pro - and slipped another finger into Lex. 

Luthor had never realized that he felt empty, not until he was full on Clark's fingers. They twisted inside him deliciously and stretched him. At first, those fingers were accompanied by a wicked burn, but the sting faded and was replaced with a tingling warmth that spread slowly like a fog. Clark removed his two fingers and Lex felt like sobbing. "Pl-please Clark..." Lex begged, not recognizing his own voice. Luthor's didn't beg, and yet, here he was. 

Clark reached between his legs and brought his fingers back wetter, Lex didn't really notice that fact, just that the fingers came back and this time, there were three. 

"You have to take four fingers before my cock," Clark spoke, the words sticking to Lex's spit-shiny cock. He was too far gone. 

"Want your cock...gonna come..." he grit out. Clark's glassy eyes burned, and Lex swore that they flashed with light before Kent closed them quickly. He also felt heat radiating from the angelic face. "Please..." 

"Come down my throat," Clark said, lowering his head once more. His tongue toyed with Lex's slit, sucking out more precum, before diving down on it once more. Lex hit the back of Clark's throat and couldn't help his hips from rising to fuck Clark's mouth harder. All he could think about was how many lies left that mouth, how many half-truth's it had told. It deserved to be fucked. He ruthlessly snapped in and out of Clark's mouth and -surprisingly - Kent didn't miss a beat, instead, he succeeded in getting a fourth finger into Lex. Luthor saw little dots swimming in his vision and felt like passing out. Clark's eyes were burning...they heated the flesh above Lex's pubic bone and the pain only brought him closer to the edge. Then, Clark crooked his fingers and hit Luthor's prostate. Lex stopped breathing, the universe collapsed and reformed wherever Clark touched him. His orgasm smacked into him harder than anything he could have fathomed and his brain suddenly flashed a forgotten memory at him through the bliss...a memory of him...hitting Clark at 60 mph...of careening off the bridge, Clark's tumbling body in his peripheral vision...his arms flying up to form an 'x' in front of his face...then water...death...

He'd died. 

Clark brought him back - only to kill him over and over and over again. With every lie. With every smile. 

Lex came violently down Clark's abused throat, back arched as if his spine were trying to escape its confines. Clark just swallowed and swallowed until there was nothing left. 

Luthor left his body and then came back to it, peering up to see Clark's sweaty curls clinging to his forehead, just like when he had pulled the billionaire from the water. His legs were being pushed up, his body folded like a pretzel as Clark's cock nudged at his open hole.

Lex didn't ask about condoms, he didn't want Clark to have one. He wanted to be filled up, to have something of Clark's inside of him. Maybe Clark could pour his light - his goodness - his pureness straight into Lex from his cock. 

Clark's breathing was a mess and his eyes continued to look an amberish-gold. He couldn't hide it anymore. Lex would think about the implications of that later.

"Fuck me Clark," Lex said and Clark's eyes snapped to his as his cock breached his hole. It was a good thing that Clark had insisted on those four fingers, because he was huge. Luthor felt as though his insides were being rearranged. It was painfully slow, but Clark finally slid home, his entire body shaking. Lex could tell that he was holding back - a lot. 

Clark breathed out a whine and rested his head on Lex's shoulder a moment before kissing his neck and moving up to his mouth. 

"Move, please," Lex begged between kisses. And so the young man did. He slid out and back in. 

"Harder Clark, c'mon," Lex goaded. 

"Can't...I'll...hurt you..."

"No you won't - I'm stronger than I look," Lex pleaded, "and I heal fast." 

Clark's arms shook, even his chest vibrated. Lex could tell that he was having great difficulty. He was holding back so much and there was fear behind his words. When Lex came down his throat and had the memory of hitting Clark at 60 mph, when he considered the human-sized dent in the hood of his Porsche - he thought better than to ask Clark to give it all he's got. 'He's got a lot. He can be hit by a car,' Lex thought. Clark could probably rip him in half.

Lex pushed at his chest. "Because you're so strong," he let Clark slip from him as he turned them back the way they had begun, "let me..."

Clark looked pained, like he was going to burst or cry or both. The loss of contact was the definition of suffering, but he withstood it because he knew what was coming. With Kent on his back, Lex could face him and ride him. Clark's cock jutted upwards, red and pleading, and Lex speared himself on it, feeling sparks of satisfaction roar through him. That aroused warmth returned, spreading until it reached his finger tips. He'd never felt anything like that before - not while fucking - but here it lived in the act of being fucked. 

Lex picked up speed and confidence and fucked himself on Clark's cock until Clark was covering his eyes with his right forearm and digging his left hand into Lex's hip. He didn't give a warning when he was about to come, he didn't have time. He just moaned Lex's name and arched off the couch as he filled Lex up. He came and came until his cock, sliding in and out of Lex, was covered in streaks of white. His entire body shuddered and Lex could still feel that tightly roped control. He tried to fathom the sort of power that lived in Clark, but failed. 

During the proceedings, Lex's cock surged back to life. He moved off Clark's cock, even though it was still hard, and began stroking himself. 

Finally, Clark breathed and opened his eyes and saw what Lex was doing. "No, don't do that," Clark was sitting up, surging towards Lex. 

"Don't do what?" 

"Don't jerk yourself off."

"Wha- why?" 

Clark took Lex's biceps and moved the older man until he was sitting on the couch normally, feet on the dusty hardwood floor. Kent with his still erect, come covered cock, was hovering above him, nearly sitting in his lap. "Because it's your turn to be inside me."

"But...but I need to prepare you..."

"No, you don't," Clark said, reaching behind himself for Lex's erection. He grasped it and moved his body - sinking down on it. 

"Fuck! Clark!" Lex nearly screamed. His cock disappeared into the farm boy. Apparently, Clark was a gymnast and a sex god and a gag-reflex-less hero. Lex marveled at his ability to stay hard, he wondered at his flexibility and he questioned how he had enough energy after coming so hard to be riding him like this. Just as odd, Clark's insides were...different. It was as if his walls were grasping Lex's cock, milking him - he felt them, wet and twisting. 

"Not gonna last," Lex held onto Clark's hips and threw his head back. The young man didn't miss the opportunity to give Luthor a nice-sized hickey on his porcelain flesh. It was as if Clark's body was literally wringing the orgasm out of Lex. This time, the orgasm was more of what Lex was used to experiencing - not the foggy warmth and buzzing arousal, not the spark of being full, he felt empty, but he had the electric smack of fucking. Still - he already missed Clark's cock in his ass, hitting his prostate relentlessly. Now, his cock was pressing into Clark - 'you're inside of Clark Kent,' his brain suddenly kicked on a bit. 'You're inside the fortress that is Clark.' 

He groaned, orgasm barreling towards him. He looked up at Clark who had sat back. His angelic face was twisted in concentration. It was as if his walls were closing in on Lex, the channel becoming narrower instead of looser, and Lex could feel his cock head catch on Clark's prostate, except, it felt like it was in the wrong place. There was no time to analyze though, he just gritted his teeth and came. Clark gasped his name and clawed at his chest until there was blood, but Lex didn't give a fuck. Clark's insides were pulsing, clenching, like a pussy, and Lex's brain went offline again. 

When he did come back to the world, he was lying down on the couch, Clark behind him, caressing his torso with those soft hands. A farmer's hands should be calloused and worn, but not Clark's. "So good Lex, that was so good, you were...fuck..." Clark punctuated the sentiment by rubbing his still hard cock between Lex's cheeks. Blood tried to fill his cock for the third time and Lex winced. 

"Wh- where did this come from Clark?" Lex dared to ask, his blood running cold with the question before it was even out. He felt Clark still behind him. Fuck. What had he done? Why look a gift horse in the mouth? "If-if you don't want to tell me - you don't have to..."

"No, I...I..." his hands distractedly came to Lex's right ass cheek, lifting it and playing with the hole with his cock. 

"It's alright, don't tell me now, just...just put your cock back inside of me," Lex's voice sounded worn and ragged. 

Clark gulped, breathed kisses onto Lex's neck and slid his cock back into his enemy. 

"I met this woman...Zatanna..." Clark breathed, fucking Lex slowly and deeply. 

'Fuck," Lex thought, 'that name sounded familiar. She was the sorceress...the magician...had she put a spell on Clark?'

"I don't want you to think that I did this because...because I was...influenced, but..."

"But you were..." 

"No! Well...she...she said something to me and then I fell asleep and when I woke up...you were all I could think about." 

Lex's heart plummeted past his high rise ribs and into the pit of his stomach. 

"I spend a lot of time thinking about you," Clark said, "before I ever met Zatanna. I've wanted you...for so long," the words were punctuated by a thrust. "I was so scared. I never thought I was...gay...er bi...but you...you became all I thought about. All I wanted. I think she...I think she took away my inhibitions." 

"How do you know?" Lex said, a lump in his throat. Clark's left arm was under his body, his hand playing with his right nipple. His other hand was toying with Lex's cock, and his own erection was buried inside of Lex. "How do you know that's what she did? What if she made you do this?" 

"No," Clark said firmly in his ear. "I know she did something but she didn't make me want you - I wanted you - before." 

"You had an odd way of showing it...lying to me, yelling at me, punching me."

"You punched me back."

"You deserved it." Lex thrust back and got a huff of pleasure from Clark.

"What if she did this?" Lex brought his left hand to tangle with Clark's. "How can I ever know if this was real?"

"It is real." 

"You never would have done this on your own," Lex surmised. 

"Maybe not, but now that I have, I can't imagine anything else." 

It was a bit odd, to be having an in-depth discussion while his ass was full of eight inches of farm boy, but it was a conversation that needed having. 

"Put me on my hands and knees and fuck me from behind," Lex ordered. Clark groaned and obeyed, moving them so Lex's forearms were on the sofa seat, his ass in the air. "If this is all I get of you, if this never happens again..."

Clark lined himself up and shoved inside with an obscene moan and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Lex's hole was still leaking from his first fuck. "Stop thinking Lex," Clark ordered, and Luthor tried to obey. He let his enemy fill him up for the second time with his seed, his own limp cock used and tired and swinging between his legs with every slap. 

Clark came again, his ragged voice and shouts of Lex's name filling the air. His fingers dug into Lex's hips and he heard a snap. 

"Ah, fuck," Lex writhed. Both he and Clark knew that he just broke his right hip bone. 

Clark came crashing down after he pulled out and wrapped his arms around Lex, this time they were face to face. 

"S'sorry, I'm sorry, knew I'd hurt you...tried so hard..."

"It's alright," Lex soothed. "I heal fast, remember?" 

A bleary Clark blinked at him and gave a sad smile. "I break everything I touch," his eyes drifted closed. "S'why I can't have you, can't touch...I'll break." 

"You'll break, but I'll heal. It's worth it," Lex drug a hand up Clark's neck to his hair and a shiver went through the young man. They were so close that their heart beats vibrated against one another. Blood was still drying on Lex's chest from Clark's earlier ministrations. Lex was afraid to admit out loud how much it turned him on to be so wrecked by Clark...so hurt. Hickeys and bruises breathed to life all over his body, drying blood on his torso, come leaking out of him in rivulets. 

They wrapped their arms around one another and fell asleep, Lex unaware that the wedding invitation had slipped through the floorboards and landed on the hay below for Clark to find later.


End file.
